Stars
by PhoenixWormwood137
Summary: A small slice of innocence and the things that broke it. No slash intended.


It's a warm evening at the end of summer on Midgard, and a woman is standing under the sky. She is bent, her long, braided hair grey with streaks of white, but her wrinkled face is turned towards the stars.

It's been a while since anyone but her servant boy, who cares for her horse and keeps her company, came to visit her. So she is not expecting the two men who come ambling over a dip in the rock hill, following the path from the place where she usually draws water.

"Hey," the larger one says, still a few paces off, in a commanding voice.

"Who are you?" She says.

"We've come to these parts to hunt," the larger man says. "We wish a bit of food and a place to rest for the night."

"My cabin is always open," she says.

"Good," the larger one says, turning towards her hut. "When can we expect dinner?"

He goes in.

The woman is taken aback, and the smaller man approaches her. As he comes closer, she can see that he is very young - tall, but smooth skinned, without a line on his forehead. He looks as if he has thrown off childhood, but not quite yet put on adulthood.

"I apologize. My brother is not one for manners," he says.

"It is nothing," she returns. "Come inside, and I will see to it that your bellies are filled."

The man laughs. "I wish you luck."

She soon finds out what he means. Both boys eat like wolves - plate after plate, until she stops serving, for fear of lacking enough bread to keep herself alive. "You're hungry," she says dryly.

"Oh, no," the younger one says. "We have just eaten. But we give you our thanks."

There is a silence, as the woman does not feel like saying they are welcome to this much food.

"What do you plant on hunting?" She says.

"Bears," the older brother says. "Mountain goats. When we are bored of easy kill, we will go and try to beach a whale or one of your sharks. That is the best sport."

"You have impressive ambition," she says.

"Thor and Loki could bring down the sky if they so wished," the larger one says, and the younger one beams, his whole face lit with the roguish joy of an inside joke and the adoration that a brother has of his elder.

The woman laughs. "You do not mean it. Come off your jest - don't bring bad luck on this house. What are your real names?"

The younger one snaps his fingers. A plate, across the room, breaks. "Oh, such bad luck," he says.

"They really think we care about everything they say about us?" The older man says, shaking his head. "Luck, indeed."

"As if you _didn't _care what they think," the younger one grins.

"How did you shatter that plate?" The woman says.

"Consider yourself blessed," the younger one says, leaning back against the fire-warmed wall. "Everyone knows us gods visit mortals from time to time. You're one of the lucky few." And when a ghost of a frown still remains on her forehead, he looks over at the hearth. The fire flares green, crackling like a growing, swelling forest full of snapping twigs.

The woman gets shakily to her knees. "My lords," she whispers. "I am honoured beyond words."

The older man - Thor - smiles. "I love it when they do that," he says to his brother. To_ Loki_. "Now, good woman, tell us where we can find places to sleep?"

"I have nothing fit for a -"

"We do not mind," Loki says. "We come to Midgard to live roughly. If we wanted golden sleeping halls, we would have stayed at home."

"Just as long as there are no insects," Thor says, making a face.

"Just as long as there are no insects," Loki repeats, smiling at his brother.

"My own bed, and the bed of my servant boy, who is away, are the best I have," the woman says. "They are clean, and as comfortable as I can make them."

"That will do," Thor says, standing up. The woman notices for the first time how tall he is - his head almost brushes the roof. "Through here?" He questions, pushing open a curtained doorway at the end of the room.

The woman nods.

"Excellent," Thor says, and disappears through it.

There is a long silence, during which the fire returns to its ordinary hue as Loki stares at it. He is bent on his stool, elbows on knees and sharp chin on bunched fists. The sound of Thor's snoring starts to come from behind the curtain.

The woman begins clearing up, sweeping, and making the house ready for sleep, all the while casting nervous glances at the Trickster. Loki is sitting on her stool, lost in content thought (judging by the look on his face). But the woman has never heard of his being extremely dangerous - only of his working a slight mischief now and again - and so she eventually works up the courage to go over and touch his shoulder.

He starts, and looks quickly up - pulling away from her hand in what seems like an automatic reflex. And even though this makes her afraid (will he be angry?) her long disused mother's instincts can't help but sigh a little. The boy is not used to kind fingers on his shoulder.

But of course, she ignores this. He is a god. She is a mortal. For the length of time he is in her dwelling, she is bound to serve him and not to feel anything but respect and awe. Forget_ pity_.

"My lord?" She says. "Would you care to lay down?"

"Not me," he says. "I need nothing more than a chair and a fire to be happy." And he sinks back into whatever reverie he had been enjoying.

The woman pretends to bustle around, cleaning the cabin, but eventually comes to the conclusion that Loki really means it - that he does not need anything else - and slips out of the front door.

The night is wonderful. The warm season means it is not bitingly cold, as it is most months, but merely cool. The smell of grass and wind-tossed flowers makes living, simply being alive to see and smell, a joy - but best of all, there are no clouds, and the stars are turning in the sky.

She stays still on the slope of the mountain, looking up at the lights draped across the midnight blue, like so much snow, like so much sand, and wishes she was a girl again, and had years to look.

The door opens and closes, but she only half turns her attention away from the stars. Loki is coming toward her, quiet as a breath of wind.

"Did you make all these?" She says, tilting her head back to look at the pinpricks of white above her head.

"_I _did not," Loki says.

"I am sorry I am not a better religious woman, and do not know more of you gods," she says. "For whoever made the stars must be worthy of great praise."

"Yes, he must," Loki agrees. He is standing beside her as if they were friends, and the oddness of the situation strikes her softly.

"Do you know him? The one who made the stars?" She asks.

Loki looks down. "I do not know," he says.

"I am sorry," she says. "I do not mean to - to - to -"

"You are all right," he says. "So … do you come out her most nights?"

"Every night it is not too cold," she says. "The sky is my joy."

"Ah," he says. "And do you think, while you watch?"

"I think of many things," she says.

"As it is with me," he smiles. She can see his teeth flash in the star-brightened dark. "How long have you been keeping watch?"

"Since I was a child," she says. "Now seventy-one years. I fear I will not make it through another."

"But you are so young!" Loki exclaims. "I am celebrating my six hundredth birthday in a few months, and am treated as a child. Will you really not live very much longer?"

She shakes her head, tears reflecting in her eyes.

"But this is terrible," Loki says, sounding more puzzled than sad. "You mortals only live as long as fruit flies. And yet you take time to look at the sky, which none of my immortal brothers do. How do you expect to learn its secrets in only a handful of days?"

"We do not," the woman says. "We just look."

"This shall no longer be," Loki announces. "Not for you. How long did you say you would last?"

"Likely not through the winter."

"Then you shall see _our_ skies before spring comes on Midgard."

"What?"

"I don't know," Loki says. "I mean, we will take you back. To Asgard. And you and I will sit on the Rainbow Bridge and I will show you what real stars are." And she sees that he _is_ still just a child, who, on discovering a broken toy, resolves to fix it with all his heart entangled in the matter.

"Does that sound good to you?" He says.

"Yes," she says, voice a whisper, because she trusts children, and this is the kindest one she has found yet.

**oOo**

It is morning, and Thor sleeps in. Loki dozes by the fire as the old woman makes a meagre breakfast, and when it is ready, she wakes him, seeming far less hesitant than she was last night.

"I will get Thor," he says. Standing up and stretching to relieve the stiffness of sitting all night and only drifting off lightly near dawn, he goes toward the roughly-woven curtain at the end of the room and pulls it open.

"Get up, you lazy pig," he laughs. "Thor! Wake up!"

The massive blonde head stirs and bright blue eyes open.

"Today is an excellent day," Loki says. "The sun is shining and hunting conditions couldn't be better."

"Good," Thor grunts.

"Wake up," Loki says. "We have to get going. Things on Midgard do not last forever."

The two men eat breakfast and do not ask for seconds, to the obvious relief of their hostess. And then they head out, as unladen as they came.

Loki, with a resolve to return in a few days, starts at a brisk pace up the mountain path, but Thor has stopped already.

"Come on," Loki says.

"That is a fine animal," Thor says. He has stopped outside a small stable attached to the old woman's hut. Loki sighs and joins him. "Yes, magnificent. Now can we leave?"

"Possibly the best-looking Midgardian horse I have seen yet," Thor says.

"Does it matter?" Loki says. "We have come to hunt finer."

"No," Thor says. "Loki, I … I want it."

Loki groans. "You honestly cannot be serious. This is Midgard, for Odin's sake. They do not have much, and what they do is inferior to everything Asgardian. Why in the realms do you have to have everything you take a fancy to?"

"You know I have been lacking a horse," Thor says, in a voice that could almost be described as a whine.

"Grow up," Loki tells him, and starts moving again. "I doubt it could even hold up your weight."

"But for riderless racing, unparalleled - so light."

"Thor," Loki says. "_Thor."_

For Thor has gone over to the stable.

"You could make it stronger, could you not?" Thor says.

"No," Loki snaps.

"You are lying," Thor says.

"And you are a spoiled brat," Loki says.

"I am going to ask how much the woman wants for it," Thor says.

And Loki, dragging his feet, is forced to follow.

**oOo**

"I will not sell it."

"It is as I expected," Loki says. "Leave it be, Thor, it is all she has."

"Your brother speaks the truth," the woman says. "Its care is the only reason the stable boy comes and keeps me company. I need that. It was my late husband's horse, we bought it a few years ago as a foal. It does the work of my small fields. I would not last long without it."

Loki, glancing over Thor, can tell that this is not well-received. Thor is used to getting his own way. In everything.

"Come," Loki motions to his brother. He and Thor back away a few paces. "Tell her that we will take her to Asgard if she will let you have the horse."

"What?" Thor is flabbergasted. "A mortal? Asgard?"

"Tell her you will do your best to get father to let her come back with us, all right? It will work. If you truly want this animal. I don't see why you do."

Thor nods, and the two men turn back to the old, frail Midgardian before them.

"We have come to an agreement. We will take you to Midgard if you give us your horse."

The woman's face falls. "Loki already said he would take me."

"Did he?" Thor glances back at his brother. "Well, it isn't as if he has authority. Whatever he promises he can't guarantee. Whereas I, I have very high standing in our father's gaze."

Loki looks down, an odd habit he has fallen into when Thor mentions his relationship with the All-Father. _Yes,_ he agrees, _High standing, simply because he is older and knows more of war, which I have yet to study._

He returns his eyes to the old woman. She is nodding, her face melancholy but resigned.

"Good," Loki smiles. "I am glad that is settled. Now, we do not want to cause you any more trouble. We will be on our way."

And he almost pushes Thor out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, they are walking up the mountain path, Thor now leading a magnificent chestnut horse.

"What a thing to say," Thor says to Loki. "That was genius, brother, genius!"

Loki's vague misgivings evaporate - he glows under Thor's mighty backslap and they continue on their way.

He doesn't know. And even in his future, he has trouble pinpointing it. But when his vision clears, he looks back and see this day, marking off two things.

_First promise broken._

_First life-burning lie._

And look at him, strolling underneath the sun. He doesn't even know.

**oOo**

Weeks back in Asgard, and Loki looks up from his book, remembering all of a sudden. Hitting a section on astronomy, he thought for the first time in a while of two dreamers under a sky in Midgard, and now he is curious. Does Thor know that this is urgent? The woman will die soon (such an odd fate, to die and die and die. No wonder the humans reproduce so fast, so early, so much). Has Thor approached Odin about this yet?

It's a long way from the library to the courtyard where Thor most likely is, and Loki has nothing better to do, so he stays curled where he is for a few more minutes, breathing in the dust and sunshine.

When he reaches the gravel square where his peers are playing at life and death, he waits for an opportunity to speak to his brother and admires Thor's fighting. His own area is magic, not bits of metal, and sometimes he regrets that. If he could just be a little different, a little more gold and a little less black.

But the duelling lasts for so long that Loki gets impatient, even on this lazy day.

"A word?" He calls.

Thor slows down his fight with Sif, turns. "At ease, comrades," he says, and his clique - his group of warriors - lower their weapons. He walks over, red cloak limp with sweat and dirt, and more majestic for that. "Can I ask you something?" Loki says.

"Go, amuse yourself elsewhere," Thor says to his friends, and they nod and wander to the far side of the courtyard, where they continue practicing their killing.

"Have you gone to father?" Loki says.

"What do you mean?" Thor says.

"About letting that mortal woman into Asgard."

Thor laughs. "You meant that? You're joking. Of all things? You actually wanted -"

"Well, yes," Loki says.

"Why?"

Thor's incredulous white smile makes Loki feel like he's done something wrong, embarrassed himself. "I suppose I thought it would be -"

"You need some other entertainment, brother. I should teach you to fight better, and soon you'll be able to advise father, like I do. I knew you were bored ... but humans ... really."

"It wasn't for -"

"It isn't as if it matters, Loki," Thor says.

Loki flounders. Why in the realms _had _he promised what he did? He looks at Thor, and his confusion must be showing on his face, because Thor says, "She was just one mortal. They're all dreamers like that. It isn't as if they _matter."_

"No?"

"No," Thor assures him. "How will you make a good king if you get involved in little things all the time? Look at the bigger view."

"I'm not the one who has to worry about being a king," Loki says.

"Give it a few years. You are so good at lying I am sure you can convince father you'd make a better ruler than I."

Loki laughs, but it's over quickly.

"I'm still not sure," he says.

"Forget about it," Thor says.

And Loki does.


End file.
